Lessons Learned
by GinaeEvans
Summary: Original prompt inside. tl;dr: My OC!F!Dragonborn is a professional conman/hustler, but this time she messes with the wrong Thalmor. Warnings: Violence and smut, read at your own discretion
1. Chapter 1

Hey guys! Here is the original prompt/request: _Can I get a fill about a F!DB who gives no fucks? I mean, this girl doesn't give a shit about the war, about being Dragonborn, about the Thalmor... NOTHING. She doesn't worship a Divine or a Daedric Prince. The only one she worships is herself. She's a completely self-centered, manipulative, snarky, smart-assed brat. She mouths off to anyone and everyone.. Basically, she gives no fucks._

_Ondolemar or Ancarion (preferably Ancarion... he doesn't get enough love and he's oh, so angry. Woof ) meets her somehow, someway and is torn between wanting to put her in place and put her in bed._

_Give me humor, drama, smut, action, adventure... but F!DB needs to learn a lesson_

_Bonus points: F!DB is human, one of the shorter races. She is gorgeous and knows it and uses it. She has no scruples or morals. She has a thing for the Thalmor because BAD BOYS OMG, and often flirts with them. Or purposely provokes them._

_Ondo or Ancar sees her and can't help but be attracted to her, has her arrested (or kidnapped) for a nothing infraction, or none at all, with the specific intent to "interrogate" her._

_F!DB taunts him whilst strapped on a torture table because she's pissed off like that._

_Ondo or Ancar uses electricity, first to hurt then to give pleasure as the interrogation gets more and more intense, having it all end in hot sweaty sex all over the torture room. If it's Ancar, it has to happen on his ship. He has a SHIP, people._

_Bonus bonus points if Ondo or Ancar finally gets a "confession" from her while eating her out. Though what kind of confession it is, who knows... And, I will love you forever and have your babies if Ondo or Ancar refuses to share her with the guards because, POSSESSIVE._

_This line here: Ondo or Ancar: "How does that feel, whore? Moan for me, and maybe I'll let you live."_

Read/review if you wish! Above all, enjoy!

* * *

Sparrow sat on a pile of large boulders that routinely spotted the beaches of Solstheim. She was settled just upwind of Northshore Landing. The girl had visited the place a few weeks back, but it had been devoid of any life. The lock box inside had contained another East Empire pendent and some gems and such, but little else of interest. This time however, there was a large ship docked at the small port. She could see several Thalmor soldiers meandering about, but they were of little consequence. The girl knew her mettle, and taking out a few Thalmor guards here and there was becoming more of a nuisance rather than a threat.

The mages, on the other hand, were a bit more troublesome. And they never seemed to get any easier, despite how strong she'd become. The Breton had little in the way of any sort of extra magicka resistance, barring an amulet she'd found somewhere. This was something that had bit her in the ass on more than one occasion. One would think she'd learn from experience and spend more time studying wards and such, but pffft... Sparrow really couldn't be bothered. Magic was so... so... STUPID. Sure, she'd seen the havoc it could wreak, but that still didn't spurn her on to the so-called "art" of it. Besides, it took way too long to level any kind of useful spell, and who had the time? She certainly didn't. Not with all the tedious errands and favors she'd done for people these last few seasons.

Sparrow rolled her eyes, annoyed just thinking about it. Didn't these people know how to solve their own problems? Honestly. If it weren't for the coin she received for services rendered, she wouldn't have bothered. Still though, it was sometimes useful to have allies. Made for easy pickings at times. They let her take just about anything from them after. It was lovely.

But that was neither here nor there. That matter at hand still needed to be reckoned with. The mage on the deck must be that one that Baldor had told her about. What did he say his name was? Arcanon? No, that wasn't it. Ancanio? No. That still didn't sound right. Ancarion! Yes. That was it.

Vaguely, the blacksmith's gravely voice echoed in her mind; _"They have a ship. They took me there and showed me the map. You will find it on the northern coast of the island. Please, do not let Ancarion make his weapons. Kill him or let him live, but take the map from him. It belongs with the Skaal. I will return to the village. When you have the map, please bring it to me there. And thank you. May the All-Maker bless your days."_

Seriously though, did he really think that the Thalmor wouldn't think to make copies after getting their hands on the original map? The Skaal were a bit on the stupid side, if you asked her. And all this fuss over a bunch of magic ice too. Really. She shook her head in derision.

Sparrow wasn't sure about the existence of any "All-Maker", but maybe she'd get paid if she brought the map back. After all, coin was understood no matter what one believed in. The question was; how to get closer without dying? The Thalmor were a touchy bunch of horker's asses, she'd have to be cautious in her approach. It was rather unlikely that this Ancarion would simply hand the map over to her either.

So.

What to do? What to do?

She could always turn on the charm, that might work. She _did_ have charisma to spare and there were always fools who fell for honeyed words and fluttering eyelashes. Maybe she'd go the sexual route, she also knew she was fair. More so that Elisif, even. And without the fancy clothes and perfect hair to boot. Sparrow was certain it must take Elisif hours to get ready in the morning. A simple dip in the nearest river wouldn't do for her, Oh, no.

Snickering, the girl tossed back her brown hair and tugged on one of the several tiny braids woven throughout. The Altmer were a strange bunch. "Superior race" or no, some of them had the interspecies kink. More than one had fallen for her charms. And, quite frankly, there was something to be said about being taken by a being that was so much bigger than oneself.

Hmmm. Yes.

What it really came down to was the temperament of the particular mage involved. Some of them were more forgiving than others. Take Ondolemar for example; once she'd stolen that Talos amulet for him, he'd become a cuddly little cavebear... and a damn sabrecat in bed. Sparrow grinned with the memory. Maybe she'd pay ol' Dollie another visit when she returned to Skyrim. He was quite talented, despite his snooty demeanor.

Moving along.

Sparrow chewed her bottom lip, fretting about her plan of action. Chances were that the guards would stop her well before she got close to the ship and its captain. Looked like she would simply have to try her luck.

"Well, here goes something," she muttered, heaving herself off the rock and landing lightly on the sand below.

She tried to appear as non-threatening as possible, even going so far as to sheathe her bow. Still, one of the Thalmor soldiers eyed her sourly as she approached.

"This has nothing to do with you, citizen. You're interfering with official Thalmor busine-"

"'Official Thalmor business', yes, yes I know. Well aware, really. Thanks for the warning," she sniffed, standing slightly slouched with a hand on her hip.

He bristled and drew his sword in a show of anger, "Do I look like the sort who suffers fools, woman? Move along before you die."

Sparrow shrugged a slender shoulder and grinned prettily before she took a long, insolent look at him, "You don't, actually. Luckily for you, I am not a fool. I'm here to speak to your captain. You know, for _business_."

The guard glowered at the human, longing to run her through. He didn't however. They'd had terrible luck on this mission so far; no Stalhrim weapons had been found, nor had their other team had any luck in making the blacksmith talk. It was putting Ancarion in a very foul mood. A mood that he was keen on taking out on them. Petty errands and tedious clean-up duty was becoming a common thing the longer it took them to produce nothing. He was tempted to deny her request, but suppose she had pertinent information? Ancarion's wrath would fall upon him ten-fold. And who needed that? Besides, let _him_ deal with this little annoyance. He could already tell that she had quite the chip on her shoulder. Might be amusing to watch the captain take his anger out on someone else for a change.

"That's a love," she cooed, tossing her hair as she passed him by.

Sparrow issued a soft sigh of relief. That had gone much better than expected. Now, if only the mage would be as easy to deal with. She could see him up there, reading some book and not paying her a hint of interest. No doubt he knew she was there, though. The Altmer's senses were keenly honed, to put it mildly. The Breton stopped several paces away from him and waited expectantly for some sign of acknowledgment.

Nothing.

Several uncomfortable moments passed before Sparrow finally cleared her throat rather loudly.

Not bothering to glance up from the page he was on, Ancarion merely flapped a hand at her in dismissal, "Be on your way, girl. You and I have nothing to speak to one another about."

"Now, now, that's where you're wrong," she replied, slouching and resting both hands on her hips.

"There are those with short fuses and those with none at all. I'm of the latter sort. Leave. Now. I won't tell you again," this time, he glanced up at her with angry yellow eyes.

Without another word, Sparrow drew a single Stahlrim arrow from her quiver, placed in on the boards in front of her, and kicked it towards him. It slid to a stop right in front of the toe of his boot. Ancarion glanced down and struggled to not let his surprise or eagerness show.

She didn't miss it however, "Well that's funny, because judging by the look on your face _now_, it would seem that we _do _have something to discuss. Don't we?"


	2. Chapter 2

Ancarion didn't care for the haughty tone to her voice. Nor did he like the way she addressed him. But, as that shiny, icy-blue arrow skidded to a gentle halt in front of him, he was willing to let all that go. However, it would not do for her to know how willing he was. No, that would not do at all. The Altmer finally lifted his eyes and took a long, calculating look at his new "friend".

The girl was Breton, that much was obvious. Her small stature and petite bone structure were a dead give away. However, she had a decidedly wild look about her as well. Her hair wasn't combed and flew freely in the breeze and there was a small smudge of soot smeared across her button nose. There was a full mouth set in a half-amused smirk above an impish, pointed chin. The girl's eyes were her most striking feature, however. One was bright green, the other an amber-brown; similar to his color. All in all, she was surprisingly attractive... Even for a human.

Aware he was staring, Ancarion quickly cleared his throat and put on a half-disgusted sneer, "What good will a single arrow do me?"

Sparrow stood patiently while he sized her up. A faint expression of appreciation flitted across his face before vanishing. This encouraged her. If he was willing to check her out, then he was like Ondolemar; at least open to the idea of working with a human. Maybe. She would still have to be cautious. Sparrow had never been on the receiving end of one of their lighting spells and nor did she ever wish to be.

"There's more where this came from, darlin'. I get around. I see lots of sights. I find _lots_ of interesting things along the way. Maybe we can work out a deal, hm? Besides, I know full well that the Skaal blacksmith didn't tell you squat. They're not the sharpest tools in the shed, but they sure are stubborn when it comes to their secrets. Aren't they, Ancarion?" Again, she offered a pretty, smug, little smile.

Her teeth were tiny, white and straight. The Altmer stared again, this time almost unaware he was doing so. His stomach began to churn with both annoyance and... and... No, he would not go there, "So you know my purpose here, then? I suppose you must have indeed found that dullard of a blacksmith. Unfortunately for you, my mission here is also a secret. To protect it, I have no choice but to silence you. Now, give me one good reason that I should not kill you where you stand."

Sparrow rolled her mismatched eyes, mirroring his own irritation, "Because, genius, I don't see anyone else around here offering to give you what you want. And honestly, why is it _my_ fault that you're terrible at keeping secrets?"

Annoyance was quickly turning into anger, but she did have a point, "Watch your tongue girl, lest I cut it right out of your skull. However, you're correct... As much as I hate admitting it. And I also admit that we are not making the progress we had hoped. Here to make me an offer, then? Very well, what do you have in mind?"

Encouraged further, the girl swept a hand back through her windblown hair, "It's simple enough, the smith said he'd teach me how to make Stahlrim weapons. You know, because I 'rescued' him and all. Truthfully, I only accidentally stumbled across that damned cabin. I was running from some monster spiders, you see."

Ancarion twirled his finger impatiently, "And you will sell them to me. I suppose I have to give you the map first?"

"Naturally."

"You expect me to just hand you the map, so you can deliver it to the blacksmith and laugh at the foolish Thalmor you so easily outwitted? You have made a grave miscalculation, and now you will pay-"

Sparrow held up a hand, effectively shocking him into a stunned silence, "Hold on there, darlin'. You're getting all worked up for no reason. Here, a token of good faith if you will."

At this, she produced a small good-looking Stahlrim dagger and a small war axe made of the same. These she kicked over towards him, much like she had the arrow. At his questioning glance, the girl nodded with a kind smile, "Take them. Consider those a bonus for hearing me out."

The Altmer narrowed golden eyes at the little tart, making no move to take the offered goods. Though he sorely wanted to, "And why, might I ask, are you so willing to betray your own kind in order to help our cause? That alone is cause for suspicion."

Sparrow held her hands out to the side and offered a lopsided shrug, "Seems like the Thalmor could afford to pay me more than a poor village on some ash-filled island."

Ah. So gold was her driving force, "I see. And what assurances do I have that you won't take the map and never return? Just for, say, your amusement? You look like the type to do exactly that."

"Hey! No need to be nasty," she glowered at him briefly before another charming smile quickly overtook her features. "I figured the down payment would be enough. What else do you need to prove my honesty?"

Ancarion finally deigned to pick up the dagger and examine it, "Amazing. Truly. Look at this blade, sharp as Mehrune's Razor I'd wager-"

"Actually, Mehrune's Razor is much sharper."

He shot her a pointed glance and she shut her mouth with a soft chuckle. "As I was saying," he went on, "I still find it odd that a human would betray her own people so easily. Something about this just doesn't sit right with me."

Sparrow heaved a put-upon sigh, "This isn't a question of what side I may or may not be on," she started, voice sharp. "The only thing that matters to me, is me. The end. Those people up there," she pointed vaguely towards Skaal Village, "and over there," here, she pointed towards Skyrim, "are some of the most helpless sods I've _ever_ come across."

Amused, Ancarion watched her work herself up into a bit of a tirade.

"All it ever is, is 'Sparrow, I've lost my bloody helmet in a cave, please find it for me. Oh, by the way, said cave just might be infested with Falmer and Chaurus, but you can handle that right?' Or it's, 'Sparrow, some person somewhere was careless enough to get kidnapped by bandits! Go and risk your life to save that stranger, OK? Frankly, a few months of that rubbish is enough to put anyone one off, kinsmen or not."

"Sparrow. That's your name, I'm assuming?"

She nodded, "You got me."

"It's very odd. Fitting though, given what I've seen of your personality thus far."

"By Sheogorath's madness! Do we have a deal or are you just going to stand there and insult me for the rest of the day?! I don't _have_ to be here, you know. That's the nice thing about having only myself to worry about. I can go anywhere and do anything anytime I feel like it. It's great. Look, I'm not going to steal the map just to laugh at you. I couldn't care less about who I sell those to," she pointed towards the dagger in his hand. "The only thing that I _do_ care about is who is going to give me the most gold for it."

She might've gone on in this fashion for quite some time had Ancarion not tossed a heavy coin purse her way. It landed in front of her feet with a metallic clinking sound. Ahhhh, the loveliest music there was. Sparrow quickly bent and snatched it up. When she straightened up, he was holding out a rolled piece of parchment towards her as well. The map.

The high elf was staring at her again, marked interest gleaming in his cold, slanted eyes. This time however, a distinctly uneasy feeling rose in her stomach at the sight of him. Sparrow wasn't sure she quite liked the way he was looking at her, and she suddenly wanted to be as far away from here as quickly as she possibly could.

Several long, uncomfortable moments passed before he spoke again, "I might not trust you, but I trust your greed. Very well, take the map. Return here with Stalhrim weapons and armor, and I will pay you a fair price for them. Tell the blacksmith whatever lie you will. We have no further need of him. But hear this; if I find that you've betrayed me in any way, rest assured I will not be as kind to you as I have thus far. Now get off of my ship, you wretched little ragamuffin." He flapped a gloved hand at her, fastened his new dagger and war axe onto his belt, and resumed reading his book.

So far so good. Sparrow had found several more daggers, a shield, three swords, two helms and a battle axe. All made of the enchanted ice that the Thalmor were so enamored with. And each time she'd shown up, Ancarion had paid her for her finds. Generously.

Granted, it wasn't without a plethora of snide remarks. By both parties. Ancarion seemed to grow more and more irritated with her each time a transaction took place. As a result, each time she offered a piece of equipment, she had to almost wring his neck to convince him to purchase it. Sparrow didn't usually mind it when someone decided that they didn't care for her, but the Altmer's barbed comments were beginning to sting a bit.

And the funny thing was, she hadn't the slightest idea why. She hadn't made it a point to be extra snotty at all. Certainly not more than usual, anyhow. If anything, she conducted herself professionally. As much as she could, that is. Being raised on the mean streets of Riften didn't tend to produce the most eloquent of people. But what she lacked in etiquette, she more than made up for in street smarts.

Brynjolf had made sure of that. He'd plucked her from the orphanage almost the day she'd landed there. Ever since, he'd shown her the ropes and molded her into a fine thief. Ever since Karliah had shown up again, though, it hadn't been the same. Something huge had apparently gone down between Mercer and Karliah; causing Brynjolf to become distant towards her. He didn't even call her "lass" anymore. Just Karliah. She didn't like to admit that it bothered her. A lot. So much so that she hadn't been back to the guild in weeks. The girl wondered if Brynjolf even noticed she was gone.

Sparrow shook her head, trying to clear away the unpleasant memories. Those had nothing to do with the task at hand and, frankly, they were really starting to bum her out. There, the ship was in sight now.

_He better appreciate all this,_ she thought peevishly.

Through much effort, she'd had come into possession of the entire set of legendary Deathbrand Armour. It was a beautiful suit of armour and each piece was powered with a very strong enchantment. Better yet, if the whole set was worn together, it was stronger than even Daedric armour.

"Is that right," Ancarion asked, after she'd explained what it was.

By the way his eyes were gleaming, she knew she'd brought a winner this time, "That's right darlin'. This suit here will land you all the women you could ever want and more respect than you deserve."

The high elf lifted the corner of his upper lip in a slight snarl. Little witch was full of venomous insults. He half-wondered why he hadn't bothered to do anything about it yet.

_Because_, he thought, _she was true to her word and has proven herself a very valuable asset to this mission. At least, until I have enough weaponry to bring back, that is. Yes, after the fact I might have to- What's that whistling?_

Blinking, he turned his attention back towards the little Breton standing in front of him. She was waving her hands in his face and whistling at him in an attempt to gain his attention, "Oi! Elf man! Come back to Nirn, we miss you so and I haven't got all day!"

"Shut your damned mouth, little bird. It's an honor for you to even be allowed to speak to me, let alone granted the privilege of doing business together. You will wait until _I_ am ready to do the dealings. Now then, what makes you think I even want this ancient junk? We need new weapons and armour, not artifacts."

Sparrow narrowed her mismatched eyes at him, recognizing this game. Nothing was ever good enough for him, she _always_ had to convince him to buy her wares. And the whole "little bird" nickname was starting to wear thin, "My _name_ is _Sparrow_."

"Your true name is "Sparrow" as much as it is "little bird". I don't believe for one moment that that is your given name," he replied, unconcerned.

"You know, I can see why your kinsmen sent you way out here on ship. Alone," she snapped, dropping the helm at his feet with a loud -_clang!_-

"Snide comments and tantrums merely make you even more unpleasant," the high elf glowered down at her, crossing his arms over his chest. "This is Thalmor gold I am spending, and I will most certainly make sure that any product I purchase is up to our standards. If you don't like our arrangement, _little bird_, then I suggest you flutter off my ship immediately."

"Oh, no. Not after how long it took me to find all this. Do you know how many bandits I had to kill to get the complete set? Not to mention that it's one-of-a-kind, and in glorious condition. It looks like it was just forged yesterday, for Dibella's sake! You do realize that until now, literally the second I found it, that this suit of armour was only a legend? You should be honored to buy it and you _will_ buy it," she said, planting both hands on her hips.

Ancarion recognized the stance by now, she was getting agitated. Soon she would threaten to walk, purchase or no. Time to make an offer before she did, and took that fabulous armour with her. He'd no doubt that she'd easily find another buyer for it, "Five thousand gold."

"I want twice that," Sparrow set her jaw stubbornly.

"Ridiculous. Five thousand and not a septim more," the high elf was unyielding.

Sparrow tugged on a braid in thought before an impish smile crept across her features, "Seven five, or this deal we got goin' on is over with. I'm not dragging anymore of this crap back here for you unless offer me a fair price for my time and efforts. You don't fool me, you want this stuff. You want it so bad you can taste it. I can see it in your eyes."

Ancarion bristled visibly. Bartering was not something he was accustomed to partaking in with a lesser race. He was accustomed to being agreed with quickly and completely, "Six thousand and you mind your manners whenever you board my vessel."

"Six five and you'll take me as is and like it, elf," she replied cooly, twisting the braided lock of hair between slender fingers.

Little wench. "Deal."

Money and equipment changed hands and the two regarded one another for a time. Growing uncomfortable with the silence, Sparrow shifted her weight from foot to foot, "Well? What are you staring at?"

"You, human. Why isn't your hair ever combed? You'd likely be much easier to look at if you'd put forth an effort to groom yourself even slightly," another sneer. "I'm surprised, yet relieved, that you don't smell badly."

An eye roll was his only answer.

"If you keep rolling your eyes at me, I just might decide to confiscate them one day," he went on. "It'd be a shame, really. They _are_ your most flattering feature."

This time, a cagey grin appeared on her mouth, "Was that a compliment hidden somewhere in there?"

"Hardly. Trust me when I say that the rest of your appearance counteracts whatever appeal they may have. Get off my ship and comb your hair the next time you show up." 


	3. Chapter 3

Ancarion watched as she pooched out her lower lip at him and started to open her mouth to respond. With those full, luscious lips... Then abruptly change her mind. Without another word, the girl merely gathered her pack together and flounced away. In her wake, a distinct smell of lavender wafted under his nose. Always lavender. It was like her skin was infused with the scent. As she passed by one of his guards, he saw her toss him a grin and kiss the air in his direction. The young Altmer glared at her, but didn't deign to respond.

The captain waited until she was out of sight before beckoning to the soldier, "You there. Come here."

The guard approached, still wearing an irritated expression, "Aye Commander?"

"I want you to take another team member and follow that little harlot. I want to know where she's getting all these weapons. Report back to me with everything that she does. I want habits, locations she frequents, where she stays at night. Everything."

"Sir? Surely she's of no consequence. Why does it matter when she's supplying us with Stalhrim? Does it honestly matter where or how she gets it?"

Ancarion's frustration was evident, "I have my reasons. Do not dare to question my authority again, whelp. Next time I'll flay the skin from your bones. Now go and do as I've commanded you."

The soldier tipped him an obedient nod and turned to go find someone to accompany him when Ancarion called out to him once more, "One more thing."

"Aye?"

The Captain crossed his arms and tossed the younger Altmer a forbidding glower, "She is not to be directly confronted, nor assaulted unless I give the go ahead. Understood?"

"Yes, Commander."

* * *

Sparrow made her way to the Retching Netch just as it grew too dark to travel any longer. Shoving the door open with a grunt, she headed inside and flopped down at the bar, "Geldis. Sujamma. Strong. Lots. Now."

The barkeep nodded and tipped her a wink, "Busy day there, Sparrow?"

"Yes. But lucrative. Very, very lucrative," she tossed him a tired smile and slid several gold coins towards him.

Geldis' eyes widened and he attempted to give her change. When she waved it off, he frowned, "This is far too much for one drink, Muthsera."

"Yeah, but I'm feeling generous. Take advantage while it lasts."

"I thank ya, love," he replied with a smile. He busied himself with preparing her drink all the while glancing at her with curiosity.

Sparrow groaned and rested her forehead down on the table, "Just ask, already."

"Alright. You still fraternizing with those Thalmor on the North side?"

She wrinkled her nose at him, "I wouldn't exactly call it 'fraternizing', Geldis. It's more of a business arrangement, if anything."

"You're askin' for trouble, ya know," he replied, sliding her Sujamma across the bar.

"Nothing is going to happen. I'm just going to keep selling to them until they stop buying or leave. Seriously, I think they might actually shit gold. They are _lousy_with it."

The barkeep shook his head and began to wipe out a stack of mugs, one by one, "And since when do you need the extra coin?"

Sparrow sipped her drink and didn't reply right away. It wasn't actually so much a question of needing it, honestly. She just needed more. What she had wasn't enough. It would never be enough. "I guess I don't. But what else am I gonna do with my time? I have to have more. I just do. I don't know why."

Geldis smiled, "It's the dragon blood in ya, I reckon. You have to hoard. It's in your very nature. Is it just gold? Or do you find yourself collection an excess of other things?" He liked this outlander. She was a bit tactless and crass, but she was amusing and always had a good story to tell.

"Meh," she waved her hand and knocked back a long drink. "Actually," she began when she'd swallowed, "I do like to gather books. Hah!" Another swig, "I don't even read half of them, I just like to see 'em on my shelves."

"Ayuh, sounds about right."

"Oh!" she pointed at him as if she'd just remembered something spectacular, "Also, look." Here, she opened up her travel bag and untied the largest inner pocket. Inside, there were dozens upon dozens of dried lavender blossoms.

Geldis barked a harsh laugh and thumbed through them, "Flowers? What do you need all those for?"

"I line my bed with them at night. Lavender seems to help me sleep, plus it smells so good. I've done it for so long, I think I'm permanently lavender-scented. I don't even need perfume. Just adds to my charm, don't it?" She put a hand behind her head and winked suggestively at him.

His eyes widened, "Oh aye, it does. So _that's_ why my bar reeks of flowers after you leave. I was wonderin' about that."

"Oi!" she pounded the bar with a fist in mock offense, "I smell better than most of your other patrons!" Several customers glanced around, irritation on their faces. Sparrow grimaced, "Sorry guys. No offense."

"Pft," Geldis snorted, "Don't you pay 'em any mind, love. If you hadn't a gotten the mine back up and running, they wouldn't even be able to afford to drink here. You made yourself quite welcome by doin' that, ya know."

Sparrow shrugged, "I didn't do it for anyone. I did it because I smelled treasure."

"I know. I got your number. Still though, the fact remains that you helped a lot of people by doin' that. Even if your motives were less than selfless. It's why I get worried when you go off and put yourself directly in harm's way."

She downed the rest of her drink and curled a corner of her mouth, "I can take care of myself, Geldis."

"Not if you're outnumbered by Thalmor. You're the Dragonborn but you're also only one person. A tiny human girl, at that."

She glanced away, not looking at anything in particular, "Nothing is going to happen, Geldis. Don't worry."

* * *

"Why are we here, again?"

The two Thalmor soldiers were shadowing the human girl, who was obviously on her way to Raven Rock's only Tavern. Likely to drink herself silly, "Because our captain has a hard-on for her."

"Then why isn't _he_ following her?"

The first soldier held a finger up to his mouth to shoosh his companion, "That would be beneath his station. Apparently."

"So, are we to just report her binge drinking for the entire evening?" He rolled his eyes, unhappy with this assignment.

"I suppose so. Until we get the word to grab her, that is."

The second eyed him, "What are you talking about?"

"Isn't it obvious? Sooner or later, he's going to find some excuse to 'question' her. This whole wanting to know her Stalhrim source is just a front. Otherwise, it would just seem like an abduction and rape, and we can't have that now can we. Quite frankly though, she has it coming. I do hope he lets us have a turn."

His companion leered, "She's quite attractive, isn't she. I thought I was the only one who thought as much."

"Aye, but that mouth of hers need to be tamed. Someone ought to show her how to use it properly and I hope that someone gets to be me."


	4. Chapter 4

The next time Ancarion saw the little cretin, she was engaged in a rather loud argument with one of the guards.

"You know _damn_ well I'm allowed on deck, elf!" she snapped, mismatched eyes flashing with wild anger.

"Just the same," the guard drawled, "the Captain has requested that no one be let on board at this time. If you like, you can wait in the shanty over there. I'm certain as a person of such... ah... _humble_ stock, you're used to such accommodations, hm?"

"You calling me primitive?" Sparrow snarled, posture tense and challenging.

"Your words, not mine," he sniffed. Honestly, he was rather amused. The girl had become well-known amongst them and her fiery attitude was a welcome change from the monotony.

Ancarion let the exchange go on for quite some time, watching the girl work herself up into a righteous wrath. It was much more fun to bargain with her when she was already rattled. Her judgement became sloppy when it mixed with her desire to leave as quickly as possible. Which usually meant she'd let go of whatever she'd brought for much cheaper than she usually would otherwise. The easiest way to ensure such a thing was to piss her off.

The reports that his guards had brought back were just as he suspected; she was given to drink and become soused several times a week. When she wasn't being an active lush, her remaining time was spent adventuring and gathering riches for herself. One soldier had even picked the lock of her home here and had found a mass of jewels, gold and jewelry: all half-hazardly piled into an extra room. It was almost as if she didn't even use half of what she found. Apparently, she preferred the collecting aspect; once she had her prizes, it seemed she hadn't the slightest idea what to do with it all.

A hoarder. Of course she was. It was the dragon's blood that flowed through her veins that drove her to do such. Oh yes, he had also found out about her ability to shout. One day, she was seen fighting a dragon. A _dragon_ of all things. His guards had witnessed her scream at the beast and a fiery rush of air had engulfed it directly after. When the dragon was dead, he told Ancarion that a strange pinkish-orange aura had gathered around her before seeming to flow into her. The High elf was amazed, though he didn't let it show. So, she also collected dragon souls. Which, of course, led to a very easy deduction: she was the Dragonborn. The girl was teensy, but this revelation told him she would be a very formidable opponent if he wasn't careful.

_A Breton Dragonborn. Oh, how the Nords must love that,_ Ancarion allowed himself a moment of amusement before he cleared his throat to gain their attention.

Startled out of their argument, the girl and the soldier both turned to glance up at him.

"It's quite alright, Ulindil," Ancarion said, nodding at the soldier. "Let her aboard."

Sparrow grinned at Ulindil with a distinct "neener-neener" expression, before dancing up the ship's ramp.

"What have you brought for me today, wench?" The captain asked, eyeing her with vague interest.

"Nothing too fancy. Just some weapons and a couple of sets of armour. They're not enchanted, though," Sparrow began to dig through her seemingly bottomless travel-pack before tossing several weapons carelessly on the deck. One after another.

"Fine, fine. We need everything we can get. What do want for all of it?" He gestured to the latest collection of Stalhrim.

Sparrow narrowed her eyes at him, suspicion written all over her features, "You're being awfully agreeable today. Are you sick or something?"

Ancarion affected a put-out expression, "You complain when I'm agreeable. You complain when I'm not agreeable. There is just no pleasing you, is there? If you must know, I'm in a bit of a rush today and I'd like to wrap this up as quickly as possible. And you're not exactly the most pleasant company either."

Used to his nasty comments by now, Sparrow flipped her tangled hair over a shoulder and gave an arrogant sniff, "Unpleasant or not, I'm still bringing you what you couldn't, and still can't, get yourself. Aren't I."

He hid an expression of anger and took a minute to compose himself. The time had come to teach this bitch a lesson.

"Please," he gestured towards the stairs leading to the ship's lower deck, "I've found something on this dreadful island that you might find most interesting. Being Dragonborn and all."

Sparrow was immediately on guard. Not about his finding out about her being Dragonborn, no. Shouting wasn't something one could exactly keep quiet, not was it? But Ancarion had never used the word "please" where she was involved. _That_ was the issue here. Also, she was less than enthusiastic about following him down into the bowels of the ship. "How about we stay up here and you can just tell me all about it, hm? If it is as interesting as you say, I can decide for myself whether or not I want to go see it."

Clever little wench. He was dismayed momentarily, but he could be patient. He nodded before shrugging in an unconcerned manner. "I just thought you might be interested in finding out the identity of the one who sent cult assassins after you."

Sparrow stared at him, clearly surprised, "How did you-"

"I've my ways. It's one of the reasons why I didn't want to be disturbed today. Now, would you like to see what I've discovered or not?"

"Why would you be interested in helping me with anything?" the girl was still on high alert.

"Just protecting my interests. If something should happen to you, I've lost my Stalhrim source, haven't I. And I haven't nearly enough yet. Don't flatter yourself by assuming it's anything more than that; this is entirely business."

Sparrow chewed her bottom lip, torn with indecision, "Why can't we discuss it up here?"

Ancarion gestured towards the sky, "This island has eyes and ears everywhere. Please, follow me." Without another word, he turned and started down, not bothering to turn to see if she was coming or not.

After another moment of lip-chewing, Sparrow went against her better judgement and followed him down into the ship's depths.


End file.
